


distractions

by drugstoreperfume



Series: i'll stop writing smut for them when they stop fucking all the time [2]
Category: All For The Game - Nora Sakavic
Genre: Dirty Talk, Hand Jobs, M/M, Mile High Club, Public Hand Jobs, a promise of future blowjobs in the series, and i mean filthy because im disgustingggg, andrew voluntarily is in a plane idk man, talk of blow jobs
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-09
Updated: 2017-09-09
Packaged: 2018-12-25 12:14:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,276
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12035670
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/drugstoreperfume/pseuds/drugstoreperfume
Summary: Neil and Andrew have a long-haul flight and Neil's worried Andrew might actually spontaneously combust when the plane takes off. Luckily, he has a plan in mind of just how to distract him.





	distractions

**Author's Note:**

> all credit for characters goes to nora, even tho maybe these arent even her characters at this point bc ive botched their characterisations so hard :)))  
> i managed to keep my own personal kinks out of this......... mostly  
> [Buy Me a Coffee](https://ko-fi.com/A05049H8)

Paris had been fun.

Back when Neil was really little, he remembers vaguely that he wanted to go to Paris. He collected postcards of the Eiffel Tower, and for about 1 month he went on a really strange baguette phase that, now that he thinks about it, probably got his mother beaten. Neil had quickly grown out of it, having set his mind to more practical things like running and not dying. Along the way, he’d learned the language, but he’d thought that desire for capital cities and tower lights had been beaten out of him as quickly as his lust had been.

That was until Andrew had woken him at 2am holding a crumpled postcard and two plane tickets.

“A-Andrew?” Neil had rubbed his eyes, imagining that it was just bleariness or a dream that put the familiar tower on the postcard in Andrew’s hand. “What are you -”

“If you don’t get up in fifteen minutes, we’ll miss the flight.”

“The flight -” Neil sat up, his eyes following the tickets in Andrew’s hand. “A flight? To Paris? Right now?”

Andrew clicked his tongue. “I thought the bin liner looked thin so I bought some one thousand dollar liners.”

Ignoring him, Neil leaned closer to the tickets. Lo and behold, written on it was all the details for a flight to Paris. “Where did this even come from? I thought we were staying over with Kevin this break.”

Andrew used his palm to toy with the tickets like cards. “To be exact, when I said I didn’t want to be around Kevin, you said, ‘If you want me to stop night practises so close to a game you can take me to Paris.’”

Neil blinked. Then, suddenly, he remembered. Kevin leaning over the kitchen counter, drilling game statistics into Neil in a combination of French and English. Neil, mixing the dressing into his salad, nodding periodically. Andrew hunched over in his beanbag looking like fury personified. Neil’s sarcastic - it was sarcastic! - comment.

Neil puffed out a lungful of air. “Holy shit, you really wanted to get away from Kevin.”

“Yes, I did.”

“I was being sarcastic about the Paris thing -”

Andrew then showed him the postcard. “Maybe then, but I found this in a pile of your money.” He lifted it to his eyes. “It says on the back in the shittiest handwriting I’ve ever seen ‘I wan to go to Paree’ so I’m assuming this was you when you were younger and not you dangerously drunk.”

Neil, disorientated both from the 2am hour and the amount of talking Andrew is doing, took the postcard and read it. On the back, in his childish scrawl, was i wan too go too paree. Neil’s stomach churned like he’d had a long drop.

“She kept it,” mouthed Neil, thumb swiping over the creases in the card. He didn’t feel sentimental or nostalgic but instead confused and guilty, knowing that despite the bruises his Paris obsession gave her she had kept a memory of it in a place she knew only he could find. Maybe there was a bit of sentimentality there.

Andrew got off of the bed. “Ten minutes, Josten. Don’t bother looking pretty.”

Getting out of bed, Neil replied, “I always look pretty.”

Andrew made a noise at the back of his throat and took Neil’s already-packed duffel downstairs.

*

Maybe it was the sleep-deprivation, but Neil hadn’t clocked until getting onto the plane why Andrew had been so chatty - he was scared shitless for a fucking long haul flight. Now that they are boarding home, this is the first thing on Neil’s mind. Neil considers making a witty comment about Andrew’s hypocrisy, but when he looks over at Andrew’s white-knuckled grip on his passport and the tense muscle in his jaw, he thinks better of it. Handing over his own passport to the gate staff, Neil prays that the flight home is quick and uneventful.

This time around, Neil is much more aware of Andrew’s discomfort when on the plane. Neil darts around Andrew so as to get the window seat, quickly pulling the blinds down, but despite that, Andrew is sat gripping the arm rest. The man next to him in the aisle seat has already fallen asleep against the seat in front, and the plane hasn’t yet moved, but Andrew is about to pop a blood vessel.

Neil has an idea, and it’s fucking crazy.

Casually, Neil shrugs out of his hoodie and places it over his lap, before leaning over to Andrew and whispering, “Yes or no?”

Andrew looks up as if noticing him for the first time and his eyebrow twitches. 

“Yes or no?” Neil repeats.

This time the eyebrow fully quirks as Andrew slowly replies, “Yes.”

In one slow, easy-to-stop movement, Neil takes Andrew’s hand and shifts in his seat. Andrew’s hand just happens to be guided underneath the hoodie, and Neil’s mouth just happens to be near Andrew’s ear. Leaning the side of his head against the back of the plane seat, Neil watches his breath move the hairs curling around Andrew’s ear for a moment. Then:

“Do you remember the night before last at the hotel room?”

Andrew doesn’t move.

“Do you remember how you kissed me? Took me into your hand?”

Andrew’s head shifts slightly against the seat, but the muscle that was so tight in his jaw moves.

“It felt so fucking good to have your hand on me, Andrew.” Neil guides his hand further up his thigh. “I love how you touch me. I get so desperate for you, Andrew.”

Andrew’s thumb begins to rub circles on the inside of Neil’s sweatpants-clad thigh. Neil feels his cock begin to harden.

“Andrew.” Neil allows some colour into his voice, letting himself pull at the sound. He wants Andrew to stop thinking about the plane and watch him come apart with only the slightest touch. He faintly registers that the safety announcements are beginning, having heard them many times. “Andrew, I want you so fucking bad that I -”

“Shut up,” hisses Andrew, eyes turned to the air hostess who is running them through the mechanics of the seat-belts they are already wearing. However, his hand shifts further up Neil’s thigh, his thick pinkie just brushing against the half-hard outline of Neil’s cock in his sweatpants.

Neil’s cock swells further, pushing up against the fabric of his sweatpants. For some reason, being touched by Andrew while Andrew’s attention was elsewhere was a turn on. Neil had to bite his lip to stop himself whining and bucking into Andrew’s hand. Andrew’s hand moves further up, gripping Neil’s dick through the sweatpants, and now Neil can’t remain silent - Neil brings his other hand up and bites it, muffling his panting breath.

“You’re this desperate already?” Andrew says it with his eyes averted in a way that made Neil double-take to check it was directed at him. “I haven’t even touched you properly and you’re already being obscene.”

Neil flushes and bucks his hips up. Spurred on by Andrew’s voice and the touching to his thigh, Neil’s cock twitches. Andrew’s thumb climbs up over his cock and begins to toy with the waistband of the sweatpants. As soon as the air hostess is finished with the safety demonstration, Andrew pulls out his cock - red and just beginning to drip precum - and begins to move his hand up and down it underneath the hoodie. Neil thanks all the gods he can think of that the man in the aisle seat is asleep and restricting some view of them as his hips twitch up into Andrew’s tight grip. When his lips open to make noise, Andrew ducks down and captures them in their first kiss; Andrew’s jaw is still tight, but Neil’s gasping mouth and bitten lips coax Andrew’s mouth open and kiss it lax, coaxing from Andrew the unadulterated passion that Neil had seen not two nights ago. The plane begins to move, and Neil takes this moment to suck on Andrew’s lower lip, making him groan. Neil is rewarded with a swipe along his slit and to the delicate underside of his cock, making him whimper.

Andrew pulls back from Neil’s mouth to sigh. “You’re so fucking loud, Neil. Maybe we should invest in a gag so I don’t have to get my fingers dirty every time we have neighbours.”

Neil’s heart races at the thought of something else to fill his mouth with. “Y-you could - uhm - if I sucked your dick, that could help keep things a bit quieter.”

Andrew turns to look at him directly and his eyes are amused. “Knowing you, you’d moan even louder with a cock in your mouth. You’d fucking love it.”

Trying not to completely lose composure at Andrew’s voice - rough, gritty, low, a weapon of mass destruction - Neil replies, “Not if you fuck my throat.” He bites his lip against a gasp as Andrew grips him harder. “If you held my head and fucked my throat hard -”

Andrew reaches his hand up to Neil’s hair and pulls, tilting Neil’s head back. “Don’t be stupid,” he growls, hand moving faster over Neil’s cock. “I’d hurt you.”

Almost frantically Neil shakes his head. “Oh, fuck, Andrew, no.” Neil gets stuck on the image of Andrew’s cock in his mouth and his hands shake, his face turned further into the seat. “No - oh my god, it’d feel so good to be filled by you, to feel your thick cock down my throat. I bet I could make it r-really good for you - fuck - I bet I could make it good.”

Andrew’s lips downturn to a snarl, but his hand keeps moving on Neil’s cock and his eyes - his eyes - are all pupil. Neil can see himself in them and even the blurry image of himself brings colour to his cheeks. Outside, Neil can feel the plane suddenly speed up, preparing for take-off. The feeling reminds him of where exactly he is - not in the house in Columbia, or the hotel in Paris, or the dorms, but in a public plane. Being this desperate, this depraved, in public, where anyone could see them or hear them… Neil’s cock twitches in Andrew’s hand and he feels his gut tighten.

Neil sees Andrew’s attention flicker from Neil to the closed window. That jaw muscle that he overworks tightens once more, and Neil throws himself headfirst into his distraction.

“A-Andrew, don’t you - oh my God - don’t you think about having my mouth on your cock? When I s-suck on your fingers, don’t you ever imagine - oh, fuck, Andrew - that it’s your dick in my mouth instead?”

Flicking his thumb over Neil’s sensitive underside, Andrew grunts, “Yes.” His eyes turn from the blinds back to Neil, jaw muscle softened, and Neil melts. It’s impossible to believe that he’s nothing when Andrew looks at him like he doesn’t know whether to worship him or devour him whole. Neil hasn’t decided yet either.

Neil’s hips jerk up hard; Andrew brings his other hand to push Neil back into the seat and hold him there as his fist works over his cock. “Oh, fuck, then let me suck your cock, Andrew. Let me be on my knees for you. Fill my - my mouth. Oh, God.” Andrew twists his hand just right and Neil’s dick jerks into his grip. “Andrew, I’m g-going to come.”

The plane takes off; Andrew’s hand hesitates for one moment but then continues, much to the relief of Neil. Neil shifts closer to Andrew in his seat, tucking his head between Andrew’s and the back of Andrew’s seat to mouth at his neck. As Neil approaches his climax, his neck kisses become more and more tooth until Andrew is panting.

“Andrew, I’m co-”

Andrew moves his spare hand to under the hoodie. After one firm twist on Neil’s cock head, he explodes. Neil bites down into the fabric of Andrew’s t-shirt as he spills onto Andrew’s other hand. His hips, now freed from Andrew’s tight hold, twitch towards Andrew and then away. Andrew works Neil’s cock into over-sensitivity, milking the orgasm from him, until Neil squirms away and collapses back into his own seat.

The seat-belt sign goes off.

Sleepily, Neil looks at Andrew’s crotch and mutters, “Andrew, d’you want -”

Andrew shakes his head and is silent.

Just as Neil is drifting off - which could have been any length of time from thirty seconds to five minutes, but probably closer to the thirty seconds taking the present situation into consideration - Andrew turns back towards him. Andrew reaches out and holds Neil’s jaw, cupping his chin.

“The next time I come,” Andrew promises, “it will be down your throat. Yes or no?”

Neil’s cock twitches as he nods frantically. As much as Neil wants to sleep, the thought of Andrew’s cock in his mouth makes him want to drag Andrew to the toilets and have him there against the revolting, repulsive, disgusting cubicle door.

Luckily, Andrew makes the decision for him, reading Neil’s piquing interest. “In Columbia.”

Neil fakes a pout, not really disappointed, but then yawns and nods. He moves the hoodie - thankfully clean - to behind his head and curls up to get some sleep. He knows Andrew won’t sleep, as he never does in public, but the thought of Andrew watching over him, shielding him from the rest of the world, with only the thought of Neil’s mouth licking over his cock on his mind… that’s enough to lull Neil into the sweetest dreams.

When he wakes up to the sound of Andrew ordering coffee and ‘all of the donuts you have’, Neil pretends not to notice the air hostess’s intense blush.

**Author's Note:**

> hi!!! i wrote another smut because writing about sex is more fun that going over my psychology notes  
> please leave a comment telling me what u thought!!! it really helps me out to improve and also makes me less likely to cry. it also gives a very nice child their first taste of a donut.  
> find me on tumblr @hauntgal!!!  
> [Buy Me a Coffee](https://ko-fi.com/A05049H8)


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